


But Songs May Live Forever

by notenoughcoffee



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-03-01 04:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notenoughcoffee/pseuds/notenoughcoffee
Summary: A familiar face in the audience one night has unexpected consequences.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Playing it safe with the warnings. Apologies for the garbage.

Katherine’s eyes fluttered trying to adjust to the rapid change in lighting, faces in the crowd momentarily disappearing behind the glare. Almost the instant she could see again, the lights dropped and for a few seconds, all Katherine could see was the faint red glow of the emergency exit signs. The faces in the crowd gradually began to take shape, and she saw a few people shuffling around, their phones leaving bags and pockets, rising above their heads. Pin pricks of light from the continuous flash of videos being started began to stabbed through the darkness before the followspot once again focused the light in her eyes. 

This point in the night was always her favorite, when the applause from the crowd shifts into mostly on-beat clapping as she and her friends perform their final number of the show. She found it immensely amusing how their was always enough people who couldn’t stay on rhythm, creating their own measure and echoing the beat throughout the auditorium. She loved the enthusiasm, even from those who were not so musically inclined. 

At odds with the joy she always felt at the upcoming song was a twinge of guilt for wishing it to be over with. In addition to the exertion required by the show, the heat of the lamps, and the hundreds of people packed in one room, the unseasonably warm weather London had been experiencing was brutal. It exhausted her to her bones, and she was sure one of these nights it was going to be the end of her. 

Tonight might just be that night.

Soaked, dripping tendrils of pink hair clung to her face and neck -- garish lines a caricature of her fate in another time. She felt a bead of sweat slowly trace down her spine like the caress of a finger and she was forced to suppress a shudder. Her costume, already adhering to her skin like glue, tightened its hold on her ribs. 

She shifted, rolling her shoulders, trying to alleviate the discomfort. She tugged a little at the end of her skirt, and silently ran through a prayer of gratitude that she was not the one in trousers on that stage. The once abhorrent idea of having so much of herself on display had become an unexpected blessing. 

So many pieces and moments of her current life had started as reprehensible concepts -- the barely-there clothing being just one small part of it. She didn’t think she could ever bear the idea of singing about her tragedies in a trivial, upbeat tune, or having to do so next to the other women whose only substantial link to herself was the shared misfortune of the man they had married. She could not have ever imagined that she would be performing on a stage in front of so many people night after night, the spectacle of which took her back to a time when another crowd had gathered before her for a very different reason. It reminded her of the time when even familiar faces before had turned grotesque and made her blood run cold. Detestation and malice transforming ordinary kinsmen and friends into unrecognizable monsters. That hatred wounded more deeply than the act that had taken place upon the platform. 

It had all turned out so differently than she had anticipated. Though she was a part of a show meant to entertain, she did not feel like she was there solely to be consumed for the pleasure of the audience, particularly of the male members of that audience. For a time, on that stage, she was able to shout out her truth. To shrug off the hands that grab at her, and scream that she was not just a vapid whore, but a child whose fate was dictated by the men around her who absconded with what they wanted from her, with no care for how they got their way or what it might result in later, and left her for dead. 

Yet, here she was. Next to her friends. Singing. Exactly what she wanted to be doing all those years ago, before her innocence had been stolen from her. 

She buried those thoughts to process further at a later time and brought her mind back to the present moment. Her favorite part of the night, but one moment that she would be glad to see the end of once she was outside in the fresh air - well, as fresh as the air in modern day London can get. She moved to the music almost without having to think, the show so ingrained in her mind and muscles. Reacting to Parr and Boleyn’s ridiculous dance moves of the night, she had to try to keep herself from laughing too hard so as not to miss her next line. 

Katherine loved this strange world she had fallen into. 

She struck her final pose, fist raised high. Movement in the crowd caught her eye. Not an unusual time for people to be leaving their seats to beat the crowd out of the door, but something about this person made her watch as he made his way toward the side door toward the exit. 

His gait seemed familiar.

The curve of his chin. 

The bridge of the nose. 

She would never forget that face. 

Panic, only ever kept just at bay, clenched at her chest, making each breath a small battle to regain control. Before the ground rushed up to meet her, she felt an arm slip around her shoulders, grounding her back into the moment. Cleves’ eyes her with concern, and Katherine feels bile begin to rise. She sees Parr reaching for a phone in the front row, but she dodges the lens and breaks into a run off the stage. Her collar constricted tighter around her throat until the swirling lights of the show illuminating her escape fade out to black. 

Then there was nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Cleves still had her arm raised in triumph in her final pose and thanking god that the night was coming to a close. She was trying her best not to pull a face as sweat ran in rivulets down from her temples. She couldn’t wait for the cold shower she knew was waiting for her. 

From the corner of her eye, she noticed that Katherine was looking a bit peaky. She’d expected to see her flushed and with her typical exuberance, but found her pallid and tense. Anna lowered her arm, and tried as discreetly as was possible to make her way around Parr and toward Katherine. As she neared her, her concern grew. Katherine’s breathing was labored, far more so than the show or adrenaline would have justified. 

Cleves slipped her arm around Katherine’s slender shoulders, noting the trembling that she had not been able to see in the bright lights. 

“Are you alright, love?”

Katherine glanced at her, terror in her wide eyes before bolting off the stage leaving Cleves standing behind.

 

***

 

Jane was startled by unexpected movement to her side and turned to see Cleves in the place where Katherine is usually stood.  _ Odd _ , she thought, until she saw the confusion all over Cleves’ face. Gripped with unease, she looked around for Katherine. A flash of pink darting behind caught her attention. She hurried to follow it, forgetting entirely about the mass of people in front of her. 

_ How could you be so stupid? How did you not notice there was something wrong? _ Jane’s guilt immediately began to berate her. She could not fathom how she couldn’t have noticed anything was wrong with Katherine even as she was standing close enough to be whipped by the girl’s hair as she tossed her head. 

_ You knew how hot it was in there. You know she never looks after herself the way she should!   _ Her mind continued to scream at her as she thought of how, despite her affection, she was still so incapable of being nurturing enough to keep the girl healthy and happy. 

Jane shoved the curtain aside and stumbled as her foot caught against a prone figure sprawled on the floor. 

“Katherine!” Jane screamed her name, knowing full well the girl couldn’t hear her. She dropped to the floor, cradling Katherine’s head in her lap, before searching around for a bottle of water. She spotted a half empty bottle the hadn’t rolled too far away. Not caring to whom it belonged, Jane poured it onto Katherine’s face and neck, trying to cool her down. 

“What can I do?” Cleves asked, making her way off the stage.

“It must be the heat. She never drinks enough water, you know,” Jane rattled off. “We need to get her cooled off.”  _ You’re an absolute moron. How long had she been suffering on that stage? It didn’t even occur to you that she wasn’t okay. Look at what it takes for you to see something isn’t right. _

Cleves gave her a peculiar look, one that Jane thought held some disbelief before she began to look around for another water bottle. She found several within seconds and rejoined the pair on the floor. 

“Can you hear me, sweetheart?” Jane murmured, stroking Katherine’s cheek and running her hand through wet locks of hair. 

Katherine gave a slight whimper and leaned her face into Jane’s carasses, beginning to come around. 

“It’s alright, my love. We’ll get you better in no time.” 

 

***

 

“Jesus Christ, don’t you lot know how to make an exit,” Boleyn shouted as she made her way backstage, deftly dodging the backhanded swing coming from Aragon. She observed the trio on the floor; Katherine was curling herself around Jane’s body, Jane pulling her in tighter, while Cleves was looking back toward the stage as though the scene before her held very little interest. 

“For fuck’s sake Kitty, you could have waited another thirty seconds for a cuddle, now couldn’t you?” Boleyn continued. 

“Do you have to be so vulgar all of the time?” Aragon hurled at her with only partially contained rage. 

“What? You mean to tell me that you actually give a shit about my word choice over poor Kitty there on the floor?”

“That’s enough you two,” Jane hissed. “Can’t you see she’s not well?”

Boleyn, with only just enough etiquette, attempted to make herself look as though she’d been thoroughly scorned for the situation, barely keeping herself from rolling her eyes as Aragon pulled out the rosary she kept tucked in her costume. She knelt down next to her cousin and waved her hand in her face, fanning her for a moment before she leapt up again. 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she yelled over her shoulder as she bounced toward the exit with a surefire way to cheer up Katherine and make her feel better at the same time.

 

***

 

“Do you think it’s heatstroke?” Parr asked as she, too, joined the group backstage.

“It might be, but she’s coming around now,” Jane replied.

“We really ought to get her to the hospital if it is. Heatstroke is dangerous.”

“No!” Katherine croaked from her position in Jane’s lap. “Don’t want to go out there.”

The remaining queens looked at each other with concern. 

“Alright, love. You don’t have to go anywhere. Why don’t we get you to the dressing room and get you cooled off a little more, yeah?” Jane tried to sooth her worries away. 

Cleves moved to help the others get Katherine to her feet and up the stairs, her eyes glancing back to the curtain where a thin strip of the auditorium could still be seen. She didn’t think it had just been the heat that had caused Katherine to become so ill. 

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Katherine's POV (mostly)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I went back and read some of my older work (one of which is on here) and I apologize guys. It's been a while since I've written. I'm rusty.

Katherine becomes vaguely aware that someone is stroking her face. The soothing motions almost lulling her back into unconsciousness, and were it not for a nagging, intrusive thought beating against her skull, she was certain she would not have even become aware enough to realize that someone was comforting her. 

She tried to focus in on whatever it was that was not right. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint what the problem was that was keeping her from enjoying the ministrations of whoever it was that was caring for her. Her head was still too foggy.

Voices seemed to crowd around her, becoming more coherent for a moment before fading away again. She concentrated on identifying who was with her, and what they were saying.  _ Jane. _ She was certain she could hear Jane’s worried assertions that she was going to be alright.

_ Why wouldn’t I be alright? _

Cool water splashed down her neck and onto her chest. Katherine felt her body jump at the unexpected contact, but her eyes refused to open. Both the water and her body’s refusal to respond to her demands only served to confuse her more. 

“Poor Kitty there on the floor,” said a voice, cutting sharply through the haze. It was Anne’s voice. That was beyond question. No one else would use the diminutive nickname for her knowing how much she disliked it. 

_ On the floor?  _

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Katherine heard her say next. She wanted to cry out to her, scream at her not to go. _Please stay!_ _Don’t leave me again! What is wrong with me?_ Her mind echoed with her calls but her voice would not come. 

“She’s coming around now,” she heard Jane say. 

_ Am I? _ Katherine’s vision blurred as slowly her eyes began to open. She could only make out soft, obscure figures, but her fears eased with the progress and the knowledge that her family was with her. Jane, pulling her tighter into her embrace, consoled her.

Parr’s voice, deep and low, took some time to register in Katherine’s head. “Get her to the hospital.”

Panic flooded through Katherine’s limbs, her muscles recoiling at the idea of leaving the building. She heard an objection, a voice rough with gravel stating a firm, “No,” before she realized it was her own.  _ Please don’t take me out there! I can’t! _ Her protests slowly, in piecemeal, made their way out. Katherine couldn’t understand her visceral reaction to the idea of leaving the building, but she knew whatever the reason, in here, with her family, she would be safe. 

***

Before Katherine could process what was happening, she was nearly at the top of the stairs, heavily supported by Jane and Aragon on either side of her - a tight squeeze on the narrow staircase. She could feel Parr’s gentle hand resting against her hip as she made sure Katherine was not going to fall backward. 

They all help Katherine out of her saturated costume, hanging it above the sink. She turns her head away when Jane holds another water bottle up to her mouth, the fussing quickly becoming more irritating than helpful as her faculties become more functional. 

“Just a little more, love. You’re dehydrated,” Jane assures her. 

“I’m okay.”

“Do it for me, sweetheart. You’ll feel better once you do.”

At the look on Jane’s face, Katherine gives a heavy sigh and complies, guilt panging at her for being brusque when Jane was only trying to help. 

No sooner did Katherine finish getting dry and into more comfortable clothing, Anne bounced through the door laden with a trays of Frappuccinos and several brown paper bags filled to near ripping point.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I got all your favorites,” she explained as she set down her entire delivery in front of Katherine. 

Aragon shot her an incredulous look. “Six Frappuccinos for one girl?”

“Sometimes a girl likes a little variety… and I never really pay attention to what you order, but I know you like Frapps so I bought one of each just to be safe!” She bit her lip as she looked to Katherine, seeking approval. 

Katherine gave her a weak smile and whispered her gratitude.

“And what is the rest of that mess?” Aragon gestured toward the paper bags. Katherine knew the bickering was only just beginning, and she had nowhere near enough energy to keep up with them. She let their escalating argument fade out as she tried to remember how she had ended up on the floor. Had she even finished the show?

“You probably shouldn’t drink that, you know,” Parr broke through her reverie. “Caffeine could exacerbate your dehydration.”

“I’m not dehydrated. I’m fine,” she stated indignantly and took a few sips from the beverage. Her petulance was paid for when she felt a stab of pain behind her eyes.  

As if serving as a reminder of all the pain he caused, she saw him again. Mannox. The memory of his face hit her in the gut, stealing her breath. The room spun around her again, and she had to grasp the edge of the dressing room table to keep herself steady. 

“Oh come on, Kitty? Haven’t you stolen enough of the spotlight tonight?” Anne gives her a nudge, and Katherine focuses on her eyes reflecting in the mirror. Concern is written all over her cousin’s face, even though she would never admit it out loud. 

Jane is back at her side with the water bottle murmuring sweet things about how she is going to be alright and that everything was okay and her panic returns tenfold. Nothing is alright. It will never be okay.

Katherine feels the scream tear from her throat before she has time to think. “He was here! I saw him!” Her breathing is ragged and she is trembling again. She feels as though the air is being pulled from the room. “Mannox! Mannox is here!” Her sobs come thick and heavy. The edges of her vision begin to darken as she struggles to breath.

Cleves, who had been quietly observing up until this point, pushes her way through the rest of the girls. She turns Katherine’s chair and lowers herself down to her eye-level. Katherine tries feebly to push her away, but Cleves takes her hands and begins to take slow, exaggerated breaths. 

“Match my breathing,” she encourages Katherine.  _ Match your breathing? _ She thinks.  _ I can’t breathe at all! He’s here! _

Cleves squeezes her hands and continues with her overemphasized breaths. An eternity later, Katherine’s vision clears, and her sobs ebb. It is still a struggle to pull in oxygen, but she doesn’t feel as though she is going to pass out again. 

“I saw you on stage. You were fine until something happened. What did you see?” Cleves rubs small circles onto the backs of Katherine’s hands.

“He was here. He was watching the show. I saw him when he tried to leave. It was him. It was Mannox.” Katherine pulls a hand out of Cleves’ grasp to wipe her nose on her sleeve. She hears Jane tut behind her and a tissue waves in her face. 

“It was so hot in there. Maybe you were just a little confused? He died so long ago, sweetheart,” Jane offers. 

Katherine feels her face flush again with frustration and embarrassment. She knew what she saw, didn’t she? She didn’t feel like she was confused at the time. Warm, yes, but certainly not overheated enough to be seeing things. Right? Did all of the girls think that she was hallucinating? She looks to the others in the room, and sees their exhaustion at the situation already beginning to settle in.

When she turns back to Cleves, still holding one of her hands, Cleves gives her a gentle nod, and Katherine feels as though she has at least one ally in this. One person believes that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. She has one person that believes her.

“Let’s go home, love. We’ll get you all sorted out in no time.” Jane tries to help her stand, but Katherine ignores the proffered hand. Instead, she presses herself into Cleves’ side, hoping with at least this one person in her corner, she would be okay, but she knew that Mannox being here meant she would never be safe again.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Katherine’s nerves were frayed by the time they had all reached their door. Every footfall as they walked to the Tube station, every boarding passenger on the train, every masculine voice that dared to speak in her vicinity made her heart pound against her pained and constricted ribs. 

When it came time to alight at their station, she was horrified to think that she may have just lead him straight to her neighborhood. She was mortified that she hadn’t thought of it sooner. What if he had been following them this whole time? It would have been so easy for him to melt into the ever changing sea of people on the public transportation system of London. 

Her panic was so overwhelming, her dread so paralyzing, she would have missed her stop had it not been for Anna who all but carried her out of the corner of the carriage  she had huddled herself into and onto the platform.

Anne, masking her concern with frustration, stood facing backward on the escalator journey to street-level. Leaning gently against Katherine’s back on the step above her, she shouted obscenities to anyone with the audacity to look in their direction for too long. Katherine wasn’t sure if it helped to have Anne threatening people so openly, or if the added attention only worsened the circumstances.

Once at the top, Aragon gestured for them to hurry to where Parr was holding a taxi. Katherine was grateful for the ride, despite the short distance from the station to their house. It would be much more difficult for someone to follow them without the anonymity that comes with being one in the masses.  

As soon as the bolt slid into place with herself and the five other girls safely inside the protection of their home, Katherine felt her knees weaken as relief flooded through her. She let herself sink into the cushions on the couch, and tried not to bat Jane away as she took up her fussing once more. 

“There we go, love. How about an ice lolly? I’m sure Anne hasn’t found the last few I stashed inside the bag of frozen peas.”

“Wrong. Found those last week,” Anne retorted, flopping down on the couch next to Katherine.

Jane tensed as she attempted to rein in her fury, ready to unleash months of pent up rage in Anne’s direction. One look at Katherine, however, had her deflated in seconds. She stored this incident in her mind for when the dam finally breaks wide open, and went back to her fretting about Katherine’s water intake and trying to get Anne to give her more space.

“Maybe you should take the next few days off, my love. Give yourself time to relax a bit and recover.”

“I’m okay.”

“Sure you are, sweetheart, but why don’t you take a few days anyways. You know how much the other girls love a chance to perform. You would really be doing them a favor.”

Katherine knew that despite being utterly patronizing, Jane was only trying to help, and though she had to fight every natural instinct in her body, she was able to contain the dramatic eye roll and exasperated sigh. Barely.

The more the idea of taking some time for herself settled in her mind, the more she became conducive to it. The ordeal of getting home after the shock of what she had seen that night was still so present in the exhaustion she felt to her bones. She could hardly imagine going back out of the house so soon. 

In the end, she allowed Jane the small victory, and consented to taking the next two nights to stay at home and rest. 

***

Her two days of leisure went faster than she had ever imagined they could. Feeling revitalized and clear headed, Katherine had come around to the idea that the heat may have actually played a much larger role in the episode than she had given it credit for. 

What were the chances that Mannox would also be back in this time, in this place, and just so happen to attend their show? Katherine was banking on the odds being infinitesimally small. A similarity, though striking, was all it was. It was nothing more than her subconscious wreaking havoc upon her.

These ideas became mantras in her head as she made her way through her return performance in the matinee. Every time she turned her head to face the audience, she focused on the belief that it was all in her head, while simultaneously expecting to see that unmistakable sneer and cold, merciless eyes. 

By the time the evening performance had finished without a hitch, Katherine was ready to put the whole situation behind her and move forward. The burden on her shoulders that had been weighing her down for days had dissipated, and she was finally able to move and breathe as she would normally. 

She bounded up the steps to her dressing room, exalted in spite of the sweltering temperature, and readied herself to spend a much needed evening out for drinks with the girls. 

***

An occasional nightmare was Katherine’s only reminder of the incident, until three weeks later, when she locked eyes with that frigid, callous gaze.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parr makes a study of Katherine

Catherine Parr adored nothing more than puzzles and mysteries. Her second chance in this lifetime provided her with an abundance of opportunities to find new ways to look at the world and to make connections she had never previously thought of. There wasn’t a crime show on Netflix that she had not binged. No Sudoku or Crossword was ever safe in her presence. She had deeply lamented the lost time in her last life where she had not been consumed by configuring tiny numbers in boxes or solving “who dunnit.” Her bookshelves were stacked two, sometimes three, books deep of mostly mystery and crime novels. 

Which is why, when the current mystery was brought to the forefront once again, it was strange that she was not overwhelmed with delight at the chance to reason out the logistics. She supposed it had more to do with witnessing just how disturbed her dear friend had become, rather than the problem that had been presented. 

The night before, when Katherine had all but thrown herself into her arms trembling so forcefully, Catherine could swear she could hear her bones rattle, her mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that the girl was having another heat related episode. She tried to recall how often she had seen Katherine with a drink in her hand that day, and wondered whether the water bottle that she had seen several times over had ever been refilled or if she been working on drinking the same 500ml the entirety of the day. 

“He’s there! Do you see him?” Katherine had shouted over the applause, her eyes, not once, leaving the location she was pointing to. 

Catherine tried desperately to follow her line of vision; however, the lights and the crowded auditorium made it impossible to pick out exactly which figure Katherine was looking at. 

“Which row? How many seats in?” She had tried to clarify, but by the time Katherine had responded, it was only to admit that she had lost sight of him in the masses. 

When they had exited the stage, Catherine had tried to discern how ill the girl had become this time, thankful that she was still conscious and able to communicate her distress. Her insistence that Henry Mannox had been in the building again that night, her frustration making her even more distraught, had Catherine concerned that maybe there was actually something more sinister at hand.

Though Katherine had been practically beside herself in Catherine’s presence, she had put on a facade around most of the other girls. When Jane had approached her, troubled by her state and ready to dote on her, she had outright lied and blamed an upset stomach for her behavior insisting she just needed to get some rest and have a bite to eat. She contradicted herself and even snapped at Anne when she tried to coerce her into joining in on their ritual of a post-show biscuit gorge to help her stomach settle, sending Anne off looking rather despondent with an unopened pack of Bourbon Creams.

It was Anna, and only Anna, that she turned to for comfort. It was then that Catherine realized she had only been in the way on the stage. Standing between Katherine and Anna, in her panic the girl had grabbed onto her. She had intercepted Katherine’s plea for help, and done nothing but further her torment with disbelief.

The realization had hit Catherine hard last night. She never wanted Katherine, or any of the girls, to feel like they couldn’t reach out to her for help. Knowing that Katherine didn’t trust her with whatever it was that was bothering her made her impossibly disheartened and more than a little queasy.

Regardless of the basis of Katherine’s anguish, something was happening, and Catherine was determined to get to the bottom of it.

***

Catherine had begun her study of Katherine’s behavior the morning after the second incident, and like all legitimate studies, she started by rifling through her collection of unused notebooks. Once the appropriate Moleskin was at hand, Catherine tallied every beverage she saw Katherine drinking. 

Though she made every attempt at being discreet, she knew Katherine had caught on when she narrowed her eyes and watched her suspiciously as she tucked the notebook out of sight whenever she got too close. No comment was made, however, and so Catherine continued.

It became overwhelmingly apparent that dehydration was not the cause of Katherine’s ails very quickly. In fact, Catherine wondered how the girl was able to make it through the show every night without having to run off and take care of herself. 

For weeks, she continued to keep a running record of Katherine’s behavior and habits. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until almost three weeks to the day of the last occurence. 

Again, at the very end of the show, when all of their hands were held high, all in one brief moment, Katherine became suddenly agitated. Evidently learning her lesson from the last two times, she suffered in silence, much to Catherine’s dismay. Her only clues being the ragged, rasps of breath and the slight quiver under the harsh lamps. She spoke to no one but Anna for the rest of that night in spite of everyone’s attempts to include her in their conversations and activities.

The pattern continued for several more weeks. Katherine was fine until she wasn’t. It always happened on a double show day, and it always happened at the evening performance. No more than once a week, Katherine would be utterly thrown. 

Despite her best efforts, Catherine could see no one recognizable or threatening in the audience. She still could not determine whether the peril was real or imaginary, and her worry increased daily as the girl seemed to grow ever more gaunt and turn in on herself. 

Although Katherine insisted she was fine and there was nothing to worry about, and Anna maintained that she was not at liberty to discuss the private matters of her friend without her permission, Catherine knew she something had to be done before it spiraled any further. 

Whatever the catalyst may be. 

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aragon is at a loss about how to help.

Catherine of Aragon knew better than to meddle in the affairs of others when they have explicitly requested to be left alone. She knew that interfering where she was not wanted would only lead to further complicating matters. She knew that no insistence on her part would convince the other girls that they needed to take a step back and stop prying into places where they did not belong. She knew these things from experience, but she also knew, unquestionably and profoundly, that Katherine Howard was not fine, despite her repeated claims to be. 

She watched day after day as they all poked their noses in, intruding on Katherine’s private struggles and generally making a mess of things. Parr jotted notes down in her little notebook, her attempts at discretion woefully sorry. Jane with her desire to play out her role as the motherly figure which was denied to her in her past life, overstepped again and again as she tried to palliate a problem for which she did not know the cause. She watched Boleyn’s repeated efforts to involve Katherine in her ridiculous antics, as if downing energy drinks and riding the roundabout in the nearby playground until she was sick was going to make the rest of Katherine’s world stop spinning. 

Cleves, Aragon noticed, seemed to be the only person that was not exacerbating the issue. She offered her silent support when they were out of the house, and let Katherine go to her when she needed a hand to hold or a reassuring smile. She created a safe space away from the ever-watchful eyes of the rest of the girls at home where Katherine could escape to when the help of the others became too overwhelming. Most notably, Cleves stood steadfast against repeated interrogations by well-meaning friends desperate to know what was happening. She was a pillar of solace and unwavering resilience. 

With this in mind, Aragon was in a quandary. She, too, wanted to  _ do _ something. She wanted to do more than offer up her prayers for Katherine to find peace. Though she and Katherine had never been particularly close, she found her to be sweet and funny and absolutely endearing. The only reason she hadn’t made more of an effort to become closer with her was down to her familial ties to Boleyn. Much to her regret, she had always taken the viewpoint that one inescapable Boleyn was enough. However, she couldn’t sit idly while the girl was suffering, blood ties to Boleyn or not. She just had not figured out yet what it was that she was going to do. All she knew was that making a fuss, insinuating that she was unwell, viewing her as a science experiment, and whatever it was that Anne was doing this time wasn’t going to work. 

She would try taking a page from Cleves’ book. 

That would prove to be a course far more difficult than she had imagined. 

***

Aragon was hyperaware of her every action and word when in Katherine’s presence. Finding the balance between being supportive and being aloof was complex. She didn’t want to be overbearing and smother the girl, but she didn’t want to be cold and distant either. Never sure if something as simple as a smile could be construed as a loving gesture or a pitying deed, Aragon was at a loss as to how to behave. She could never figure out the right words either. By the time she had thought of an appropriate greeting or something to add to a conversation, Katherine had removed herself from the room or the topic had entirely shifted and Aragon would be back to the drawing board. 

So preoccupied with her shortcomings with Katherine, she had gone through the motions of Sunday mass without attending to any part of it as she should. She had been agonizing over her decision to give Katherine’s shoulder a squeeze as she walked past her on the way out of the door that morning. The usually slender frame of the girl beneath the deceiving bulk of a hoodie felt sharp and fragile beneath her fingertips. She had also made her jump at the unexpected touch. She played the moment over and over in her mind and didn’t hear a word of Scripture, she didn’t remember a single hymn, and didn’t recall whether she had gone up to receive communion. The realization of this made her feel twice as guilty. She was failing not only her friend, but her Savior as well. 

She remained kneeling at the pew, penitent, long after the rest of the churchgoers had filtered out. She stayed in that position so long all she could feel was pins and needles in her calves and feet while her knees screamed in agony. Suffering rightfully deserved, she thought, for both her carelessness during the service and her inability to provide comfort for her friend.

Discomfort grounding her in the moment, she prayed over and over for God to protect Katherine, for Katherine to find peace, and for the wounds of her past to be healed. She prayed for God to guide her so that she could help Katherine whatever it was she needed.

When she left church that afternoon, tired and sore from her devotions, she felt a heaviness weighing her down. 

***

Both shows that evening seemed to never end. Aragon struggled to do her part justice and carry the burden settled on her shoulders. Each minute was a battle waged with her own body to stay upright and focused, and nothing but the grace of God kept her from collapsing into a heap on the stage in front of the entire audience.

By the time she had scraped through to final number of the show, the sense of achievement she felt was almost palpable. She knew, with the help of God, she would be able to make it through anything, and so would Katherine.

She luxuriated in the energy of the crowd, letting it soothe her aching soul and lift her higher. She didn’t even feel her usual irritation when she saw a few people slipping through the doors before they hit their final note. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going somewhere. Promise.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane is full of doubts about her ability to care for another human.

“Katherine, love, can I get you a-” Jane stood in the door of the living room, her question caught in her throat. Katherine was curled up in the corner of the couch, her knees tucked beneath her oversized sweatshirt. The starkly contrasting white drawstrings had been pulled tight to frame her face with her black hood, letting just a few wisps of brunette hair stick out at odd angles around her forehead. A single pink tendril wrapped underneath her chin, slick and shining with sweat and tangled in one of the drawstrings. Her face was relaxed, finally finding peace as she slept. 

Jane smiled at the sight. Katherine’s sweet face, innocent and child-like, filled Jane with wholehearted, sincere protectiveness. Though she knew Katherine was an adult, she couldn’t stop an irrational side of herself that demanded she care for her as if she had been her own baby. Having never held her child, it was all she could do not to go to Katherine and cradle her against her chest, whispering to her that all would be well. Jane would move mountains to give Katherine that comfort and make her feel safe again.

She stepped further into the room, engaged in a conflict with her own mind and better judgement over her desire to give her a cuddle. Having cared for other children, she could almost feel the warm weight of the girl, pliable and boneless in sleep in her arms. She was desperate to provide the love that only a mother could, but knew the irreparable havoc that could be wrought on their relationship if she were to make an attempt to pull her into her arms without consent, especially when the trauma of Katherine’s past was taken into consideration. 

Sighing and finally settling on keeping her distance, she looked at her sleeping form again. She didn’t quite understand how the girl could be comfortable enough to fall asleep in that position, pressed tightly against the arm of the chair and contorted inside the confines of her hoodie, not to mention wrapped so tightly in extra layers considering the continuing heat wave. Jane, in a thin sundress, still found the temperature to be almost unbearable. She was tempted to wake the girl and help her change into a more breathable fabric so she could rest easier.

Staring at her, Jane weighed her options. She knew how little sleep Katherine had been getting. Even when she did sleep, it was fitful at best. Dark circles had taken up permanent residency under Katherine’s eyes, dull and bloodshot, no longer bright and glinting with mischief as they had been only weeks before. 

On the other hand, Katherine had given them all such a scare and the heat had been to blame for it. She was putting herself at risk of another heat-related episode if she was going to insist on bundling in winter wear. Jane tried to remember the last time she had seen her fill the water bottle sitting on the side table.  _ Was it this morning? It might have been yesterday,  _ Jane wondered _. _ With Katherine’s wardrobe choices lately it was hard to discern the memory of one day from another. 

_ Sleep deprivation or severe dehydration and heat stroke? _ Jane worried her lip as she questioned which scenario would be the most detrimental to Katherine’s health. She took a furtive step forward and promptly backtracked. Stuck in a repetitive loop, back and forth, Jane was once again at odds with herself. She could see the sheen of sweat on the only skin Katherine had exposed - her face. _ She’s overheating with that sweatshirt bunched about her. _ Jane took one step forward.  _ But what was that saying about sleeping babies? Let sleeping babies lie? Did that saying apply for when those babies were ill and feverish? Did it still apply for babies who were no longer, in fact, babies?  _ A step back to where she started.

A soft murmur on an exhalation brought her out of her cycle of self-torment. Katherine shifted a bit, arching her back. Her spine crunched and cracked, loudly protesting the position it had been held in for much too long. With a yawn, Katherine signified the end of Jane’s anguish.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Jane whispered.

Startled, Katherine nearly jumped off the edge of the couch. Snapping stitches, stretched beyond their limits by Katherine’s knees beneath the hoodie by her chin, popped loudly as her legs flailed to find balance.

“God! Jane! Were you watching me sleep?” Katherine’s voice was rough from disuse, cracking in odd places and refusing to sound in others. She pushed her arms through the sleeves, and righted herself on the couch again, breathing heavily. Her eyes darted around the room as if she were expecting another person to be around and watching her. 

“No, love, I was just coming in to see if you wanted some tea,” Jane explained softly. She hoped that her face was earnest and that the sweat dripping from her hairline was not a dead give away that she had, indeed, been watching Katherine sleep for quite some time. 

“No,” Katherine answered almost before the last word had left Jane’s mouth. She cleared her throat and started again, “No, thank you.” Unnerved, she looked around the room again. 

“Alright. We’ll need to get going soon if we’re going to be on time. Do you want some help packing your bag?” 

“No. I’m fine,” she responded curtly. Her face scrunched a bit before she added, “Thanks, though.” 

It was difficult not to take Katherine’s surly behavior to heart. Jane watched as she unfolded herself and stood, heading toward the stairs without another word. Jane returned to the kitchen, the kettle long since cooled, and flicked it on to boil again. She began to pack Katherine tea for later. She hadn’t eaten all day. She was bound to be ravenous before the show started.

As she snapped the lid on a container of fruit, Jane resolved that she would not back down next time. Katherine needed to know that she was cared for and loved, even if that meant being a little too overbearing. She might not have had the chance to be there for her Edward, but she was here, now, and Katherine needed a mother. 

***

Katherine’s heart had yet to slow to its normal pace, even after finding solace in Anna’s bedroom. The room was empty, but Anna had offered it as a safe haven from the relentless hounding of the others. 

She hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of being watched. As she woke from her nap, stiff and uncomfortable from her position, she thought she felt eyes on her. She had just convinced herself that she was being paranoid, that there was no one there, before opening her eyes to find Jane gawking at her.

Guilt racked her for her inability to appreciate the good intentions Jane had in being there. She only wanted to help. Her persistence in caring was unparalleled; however, her tireless devotions were exhausting Katherine, standing on her chest and stealing the breath from her lungs. It was suffocating her. 

The unwavering dedication was smothering, reminiscent of long-past flings. Indistinguishable to the tenacity once shown to her when she was very young.

Those eyes that still found her.

Not even in the comfort of her own home was she able to escape from the sense that his gaze was on her, sizing her up, ready to devour her. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy. I didn't forget about this story. I have it all outlined. I was having a lot of anxiety about the pacing of it. I was worried that I would lose interest if I post the chapters the way I want to, which was keeping me from writing it. So if this isn't moving at the pace you want it to, I apologize. Check back in a few chapters if you're still interested. The alternative is that it just sits as an outline and no one gets anything. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cleves is at just as much of a loss as the rest. She's just better at hiding it.

Cleves didn’t know what it was about her presence that comforted Katherine, but she wasn’t going to waste her time questioning it. Though dubious about Katherine’s choice of housemate to seek consolation and support at first, it quickly became evident that the rest of the inhabitants were either inept or pursuing their own agenda to appease their personal traumas. 

As she watched the others’ schemes fall to pieces or their good intentions dig their way beneath Katherine’s skin, she had to put her particular anxieties and past ordeals into check. She had previously been keeping Katherine at arm’s length, the desolation of having lost her once too much for her to overcome, she wasn’t about to open herself back up to withstanding that torment. Until she wasn’t given a choice. Until Katherine, just as she had before, flashed those wide, terrified eyes in her direction and Cleves’ apathetic, frigid front went to rack and ruin. Wrapped around Katherine’s little finger, malleable, pliant, and entirely at her mercy, Cleves was reminded of just how much she adored her before.     

Since her first disastrous attempts to discuss what had happened, Katherine had refused to bring up the topic. She chose, instead, to turn in on herself more and more, until she was hardly recognizable, a mere shadow of herself. Cleves could understand the change in her composure, considering that not one of them bothered to listen to her when she tried to explain. All of them thought they knew better than she did, so intelligent with their own theories about what caused her “funny turn” and with Katherine so young, impressionable, even weak. Cleves wasn’t so sure. She irrefutably believed that Katherine was not some frail thing to be wrapped in cotton wool. She hadn’t seen anything in that crowd or in any subsequent crowd; however, she wasn’t about to doubt the visceral reaction that the girl had. Every night, she prayed she would not look over and see panicked eyes turned to her. No matter how often she would look back out into the sea of faces where Katherine’s gaze would direct her, she could never find the one that instigated such turmoil within her friend.

Cleves would never admit it, but she was just as much at a loss for how to help Katherine as the others. When their questions turned from casual, curious, well-meaning asking into interrogations, she had no information to provide. When their interrogations turned into something Cleves imagined was akin to threats of an inquisition styled after the Crusades, she legitimately had nothing to offer them.  She liked to think that even if she had known something, she would never divulge those secrets entrusted to her, but with the impact on Katherine’s well-being, she wasn’t sure she would be able to shoulder that burden on her own.

When an opportunity presented itself one morning for both her and Katherine to have an entire day with nothing booked, Cleves saw her perfect window to provide Katherine with some much-needed time to get out of the house, away from the others, and put some distance between herself and her troubles. 

She broached the topic of getting away for the day that same morning. Katherine gave her a long, vacant look in response. Heart in her stomach, Cleves thought her absence in the moment was a direct result of crossing the line she had been dancing upon for weeks, as though she had been revealed for exactly what she was, another person in Katherine’s life that was trying to slap a bandage on a situation she could not even begin to understand. 

A gaudy clock on the kitchen wall kept time of each passing second, echoing torturously throughout the room, until Cleves was certain an eternity had passed between them. After many prayers that the ground would open beneath her, Cleves released the breath she had been holding when Katherine gave a small nod. 

***

Katherine’s hesitancy at the suggestion of a day out ebbed away as she readied herself for their excursion. By the time they alighted from the bus at their destination, Cleves could feel Katherine’s eagerness and curiosity buzzing intensely from her. Cleves found her excitement endearing, seeing the bright, cheerful girl that had been missing for far too long. She had to hide the grin on her face when Katherine had reached out to take her hand as they started down the road.

“This way,” Cleves directed her, down an alley between a Gregg’s and a fish and chip shop. Astonished at Katherine’s implicit trust in her, she guided her down another dodgy side street, stepping gingerly over puddles of substances neither one of them wanted to think about. When Katherine didn’t even question the instruction to slip through a gap in an old fence, Cleves gave the hand in hers a squeeze. “We can go back, you know. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Katherine’s face scrunched from more than the lingering smell of the alley before relaxing quickly again. It was the look that she had been giving Jane and the others nearly every interaction she had with them. Cleves feared that she had ruined the moment, questioning Katherine’s ability to handle something completely within her control.

“If I didn’t know where you were taking me, I’m not sure what my answer would be,” she admitted, squeezing Cleves’ hand in return. “But things haven’t changed all that much in the last 500 years that I don’t know where we are or what we are doing.” She grinned impishly and tugged Cleves forward into the wooded area, stepping lightly on the soft earth at the border of the park, and dragging her through the thicket looking for familiar markers to take along a path that time had all but forgotten.

***

Hours later, as the soft golden hues of sunset highlighted the strands of hair that had escaped the confines of her bun, Katherine walked through the doorway to the house unencumbered by the problems that had been plaguing her. A day of traipsing through nature, getting snagged on branches and thorns, spotting wildlife, and reconnecting with an old friend had done her spirits wonders. The positive effect of which extended on toward Boleyn, who, upon Katherine’s arrival home, had leapt on her nearly the second she stepped foot into the house. 

“God! Where have you been? It looks like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, twice over,” she screeched as she pulled a pine needle from Katherine’s hair. “I’ve been waiting ages for you to get home! Thanks, Anna, I’ve got her from here,” she said waving a dismissive hand in Cleves’ direction. 

Cleves rolled her eyes at her and announced she was going to take a shower. She tilted her head toward Boleyn and raised her eyebrows at Katherine. Katherine gave her a small smile and a nod, letting her know that she would be fine, despite what her cousin had in store for her.

“I’ve got everything set up!” Boleyn continued. She licked her thumb and reached out toward Katherine’s cheek, presumably to wipe away a smear of dirt or pollen. She tutted when Katherine swatted her hand away.

Katherine followed her, a bit begrudgingly into the living room. Chairs had been swiped from the kitchen and were placed at various points around the room. Duvets and sheets were draped over every available surface, hanging from the bookshelves, over the couch and chairs, and clipped to the lighting fixtures. Katherine spotted several towels, scarves, and even jackets among the folds of fabric. Fairy lights had been strung along an entrance, held open with a broom, and she wondered just how angry Jane was going to be when she saw this mess. 

Laughter bubbled from deep within her as Boleyn stated, “Your fort awaits you Your Majesty,” before bowing and waving her hand, gesturing for her to enter.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy while you can :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine wants some time for herself. 
> 
> No fluff to be found here. TW: violence

Katherine felt lighter than she had in quite a while the day following her adventure through Richmond with Cleves and her night in the fort with Boleyn. With little effort, her shoulders were set back and her head was held high, and when Parr swung a phone in her direction at the end of the show, her smile and giggle that accompanied it were, for the first time in weeks, genuine. 

“It’s good to see that smile again, Kat,” Jane said as they made her way off the stage. Her comment was delivered with a gentle pat on the back.

Katherine nodded at her before bounding up the stairs ahead of the other girls, not wanting to provide time for their inevitable questions about her change in mood which would, without any doubt, end the short reprieve that she had found from her worries. Already, Jane’s words were pressing against the base of her neck, rounding her shoulders. 

A bead of sweat dripped from her hairline and down the side of her neck as she straightened herself up again. She swiped at it frantically, too much like the feeling of a person running an intimate fingertip where she absolutely did not want it. Skin crawling, she suppressed the shudders as she stripped off her costume and changed into a vest and running shorts. She was halfway into her regular clothing before the rest of the women reached the top of the stairs. 

Parr gave her an unmistakable once-over before transparently jotting down a few lines in her notebook. Katherine dug her thumbnail into the flesh of her index finger to keep herself from rolling her eyes at the insolence. 

“Alright, my love? Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Jane caught her arm as she was collecting the last of her belongings, shoving them into her bag so she could make her getaway. Her words were saccharine, laid on thick and heavy, drowning her irritation and distress in honey. 

“Yeah. I want to beat Anne home so I can get a shower in before bed. You know how she takes an age in there,” Katherine matched Jane’s sugared tone, masking her own irritation only marginally better than Jane had. She pulled her arm from Jane’s grip, picked up her headphones and turned to walk out the door, praying that she had enough of a headstart to be in bed by the time the others got home.

***

When the front door shut behind her, Katherine sighed in relief. Home at last. She had only just made the train as the doors slid shut behind her. Ignoring an elderly couple that shook their heads at her daring leap through the closing doors, she allowed herself to be quite pleased with her timing and leant against the plexiglass partition, her back to those unappreciative of her luck. She let her bag drop to the floor and nudged it to the side with her foot before heading up the stairs. 

She was halfway through the door into the bathroom when something broke her from her reverie. She wasn’t sure what it was that had pulled her from her daydream of sunbathing on a beach with a cocktail in hand. At first she worried that the others had been right behind her and had arrived home, but remembered that the next train wouldn’t have left until twenty minutes after her departure. A strange noise, but she was unable to tell whether it had come from her musings, or if it had come from something in the house. 

She paused to listen. The hallway was dark. The only illumination came from the small strip of light beneath Anne’s door. Anne never remembered to turn out all the lights before she left. Katherine stood still, fixed to the spot, waiting. 

Nothing.

And then her door opened. 

“Hello, darling,” a gruff voice greeted her. One she instantly recognized. Bile rose in her throat, threatening to spill all over him. Mannox might have been the face in the crowd, but Dereham was the one before her. 

A gloved hand reached out toward her. Katherine flung herself backwards, swinging the bathroom door shut to try and separate herself from him. Before the door could latch, his foot found its way through. 

He threw his weight into the door. Katherine’s tiny frame pressed against it was not enough to keep the force of his momentum from entering the room. The door crashed open, sending her small body flying into the towel rack. All of the air was driven from her lungs at the impact, her ribs constricted painfully after colliding against the railing. She found herself on the floor, clutching the metal bar that had detached from the wall. Bits of plaster flaked around her, settling as they fell from each end of the bar and the wall behind her. 

Her oxygen-deprived brain let a momentary thought of just how angry the other girls would be when they saw she had made such a mess of things again before snapping back to the reality in front of her. Her moment of shock was replaced by rage. Incensed at the audacity of the man, she dodged out of his grasp again. She kicked at him futilely, until she was able to get back to her feet. 

A brief impasse occurred, both Katherine and Dereham assessing the situation they had found themselves in. She didn’t know who made the first move but before she had a chance to think about it, Dereham was closing the short distance between them and she was swinging her impromptu weapon in his direction. 

Though her intended target had launched himself at her, she still hit a mark, smiling to herself when she heard the crack of the metal bar against the man’s shoulder. It was enough to throw him off balance and create a gap between him and the door. She hurled herself through it, but came up short when his hand closed around her upper arm. He spun her to face him, not relinquishing his hold on her despite her twisting and wrenching. His hold was too tight for her to be able to swing the bar again. He squeezed until the railing dropped from her hand and all she was left to defend herself with was her enraged kicking, striking anywhere she could reach. 

A fist struck her in the jaw.

Flashes of white light shattered her vision. She landed on the floor. Blood filled her mouth as she rolled to her side, trying to get up again. She’d made it up onto her elbows before the first kick landed on her stomach, followed quickly by a second and third kick - these to her ribs. 

Her fingers dug uselessly into the bath mat as she scrambled to get away, black spots filling her vision. She couldn’t breathe. 

Rough hands rolled her on to her back. A dark shadow in her blurry vision moved close, lifting her up by the collar of her shirt before dropping her back down. She had just enough time to think of Jane, wishing she had just let her take care of her the way she had wanted to all along, before the sudden crack and blaze of light stole the last of her breath and everything was gone.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls arrive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait. 
> 
> TW for violence

Laden with bags of dirty clothing and takeaway food, Anne used her foot to open the front door, kicking it with the heel of her boot and leaving a dark scuff mark against the pristine white paint. Her bags scraped against the doorframe and walls as she entered. One caught against the corner of the hallway table, pulling dangerously at her overloaded arm and threatening to send her milkshake to the ground. 

“Shit,” she said quietly to herself as she righted her cup and dropped the duffle bag filled with sweaty clothes. Untangling the shopping bags on her other arm, she groaned as the circulation returned to her fingertips, bringing with it the sensation of pins and needles. “Double shit,” she exclaimed a bit louder than her last curse. Katherine’s set of keys were already on the table. Her bag already tucked to the side of the door. Anne had no hope of getting in the shower for at least another hour. She knew she should have come straight home and had her food delivered. She looked at her traitorous milkshake in a tenuous grip in her numbed hand. It was what had kept her waiting when the boy at the counter, so painfully new, had needed to seek out assistance to make it. The Magic Stars and caramel sauce wouldn’t taste as sweet knowing what they cost her. 

Resigned to a night that would be later than she anticipated, Anne let her bags drop to the floor, one by one, leaving a trail in her wake as she went into the kitchen to eat the food leftover after her journey home and wait for her turn in the shower.

***

 Jane led the way up the path to the door with Anna at the back of the line ushering Parr and Aragon along. Both Catherines had found themselves locked in another theological debate, about which this time Jane categorically did not care. A regular inconvenience, the women would try to hook the other girls in as support for their side of the argument, and Jane did not have the energy to handle a discussion of a matter that held no importance in her current state of being. 

As she approached the door, her patience, already being tried by Parr and Aragon moving at a glacial speed as they discussed the merits of one line of scripture over another, seemed to wither out of existence at the scuff on the door. There was no doubt as to who the culprit was. Her irritation was compounded when an obstacle impeded the door from opening enough to allow them entrance. 

“Anne! Get these bloody bags out of the way!”

“Sorry,” Anne mumbled around a mouthful of chips, shoving more in as soon as the word was out. She kicked the impromptu doorstop out of the way, not bothering to pick it up or put it where it would no longer serve as a tripping hazard. Retreating from the inevitable reprimand, Anne clomped up the stairs still wearing the boots that had left the offensive mark across the front door.

Knowing no one else would take care of it, Jane set to work clearing the mess in the entryway, grumbling to herself all the while. 

No sooner than the final bag was set in the cupboard, Jane’s hip crashed painfully against the doorknob as she jumped, startled at the thunderous cacophony of Anne running down the stairs again, hitting some steps and missing others in her haste. Clutching her sore side, her face reddened with rage, Jane slammed the door to the cupboard shut before turning to give Anne the reprimanding of her lifetime. 

A rare curse forming on her lips, the beginning sound was making its escape. Until she saw Anne’s pale face.

***

Katherine didn’t know how long she had been unconscious. Intense flashes of white light, burned through her skull when she opened her eyes. This pain was an unwelcome contrast to the cool comfort of nothingness which she would mercifully lapse into. Regardless, she endured the daggers of light piercing her eyes as often as she was able. Images distorted by pain and confusion cycled through her mind so many times she had long lost the chronological order in which they occurred.  

_ A blanket, coarse and hot, was thrown over her. A rough hand tucked it around her, jarring her head into the sharp metal pieces her face had been pressed into. She wasn’t sure if the metallic taste in her mouth could be contributed more to the component in front of her or the pulsation in her jaw. It hurt to breathe.  _

_ Concrete. She was sure she was sprawled out on a concrete floor. She tenderly rolled her head to take advantage of the biting chill of the surface against her wounds while the rest of her body convulsed with shivering. The lighting was too dim to see past the placid sea of grey.  _

_ She felt strange. Weightless and leaden all at once. Her limbs were stone, pulling her down into the earth, yet she seemed to be floating somewhere in the clouds. No. Not floating. She was being carried. She willed her stony limbs to respond, to fight back against whoever was carrying her, but they remained as they were, immobile. Her temple cracked against the wooden frame of a door. _

_ Voices, hushed and indiscernible over the sound of her own pulse. A hand on her arm, a sharp cracking sound, and the hand was gone. She turned her body away from where she thought the hand had come from. The voices, still incomprehensible, rose in volume before a swift kick landed against her sternum.  _

_ She was on her hands and knees against the tiles of the bathroom floor. She tried to crawl forward to find refuge but her hand slipped in a pool of blood. Her elbow dropped sharply and kept her face from landing in the congealing puddle. She felt a pang of sympathy for whoever the blood belonged to before she lowered herself to the floor to rest for just a moment.   _

Every part of her was consumed by pain, and the solace that came with unconsciousness was too much to resist. 

  
  



End file.
